Lustful Ghost Xue Pan

Five minutes later.

Wu Sheng, whose spirit had been somewhat beaten down by Old Gouzi and me, completely surrendered.

He confessed the whole story from beginning to start. The thing attached to Wu Sheng was a lustful ghost named Xue Pan. Xue Pan said he was entrusted by someone to possess Wu Sheng every night at the zi hour to wreak havoc on the village's sows, until Wu Sheng was drained dry of his essence and died.

Damn it! Hearing this made my anger surge. What on earth do these bastards take the human world for? Do you think you're an expert? You want to ravage sows just because you feel like it? You really don't give a damn about us practitioners of the Dao, do you? Huh?

Bang!

Thinking of this, I sent him flying over five meters away with a flying kick.

Old Gouzi walked over and knocked him back with another kick.

I figured this lustful ghost Xue Pan had never seen such a brutal pair of humans like the two of us in his entire life.

He never imagined that even after turning into a ghost, he could still be bullied to this extent by two young living people.

Slap!

I gave him another big slap across the face. It wasn't even because I wanted to hit him, my hands were just purely itching for it.

"Speak, who the hell sent you?"

Originally, I thought about digging out the mastermind behind the scenes through this Xue Pan, but to my surprise, the lustful ghost who had been beaten into a miserable grandson by the two of us actually had a side that made me look at him in a new light.

"I, I can only tell you that the one who sent me is also a ghost. As for anything else, you can beat me to death and I won't say."

"Aiya! Fuck my life, did Old Gouzi here spoil you too much? You're acting all tough now, aren't you?"

Bang!

Before I could say anything else, hearing Xue Pan's reply, Old Gouzi couldn't hold back and gave him another kick.

Just as Old Gouzi wanted to continue beating him, I reached out and stopped him.

The reason was none other than this: when I was young, I was very loyal, and I really liked people who valued loyalty. Whether friend or foe, as long as they were loyal, I would yield three points to them.

Today, this lustful ghost made me look at him with a bit of admiration, because in my view, someone who could be truly loyal could never be too bad at heart.

"Forget it, get lost, don't come back again."

I waved my hand at Xue Pan, instantly releasing the adhesive grip of the dog shit on him.

After Xue Pan climbed down from Wu Sheng, he first looked at me, seemingly having a hesitant look of wanting to speak but stopping, then he sighed, cupped his fists toward me, and left without saying a word.

I originally thought the matter ended right there.

Who would have known that at noon the next day, while I was drinking at Gouzi's place, this Wu Sheng came out to cause trouble again.

He ran around the whole village, cursing as he ran;

"The two bastards from last night, get your asses out here! The two bastards from last night, you two get out here!"

Old Gouzi and I exchanged glances, and Old Gouzi said indignantly;

"Damn it, this bastard of a ghost really doesn't learn his lesson, does he? He dares to come back. Let's go, Old Ghost, let's go beat him up. I still had half a catty of dog shit left yesterday, damn it, I'm going to cram it all down his throat today."

I furrowed my brows slightly, thinking to myself that logically speaking, this shouldn't happen. Xue Pan had been beaten to a pulp by the two of us, and I even let him go—yet he still dared to return?

After Gouzi finished speaking, I turned around and pulled two dharma instruments out of my bag. One was a miniature peach-wood sword I had carved myself, which I handed over to Gouzi.

"Take this. If you run out of dog shit, use this instead."

Old Gouzi lowered his head to look at the somewhat crude peach-wood sword in his hand, then looked back at me,

"Then what are you going to use, Old Ghost?"

"I'll just use whatever."

Looking at the strangely shaped black subduing pestle gripped in my hand—one look and you could tell it was no ordinary object—Old Gouzi's mouth twitched upward.

It wasn't that I wouldn't lend him this dharma instrument, it was simply that he couldn't handle it.

The peach-wood sword I gave him was a dharma instrument of pure righteousness, and ordinary people holding it would also possess the ability to ward off evil and slay ghosts.

Yet the subduing pestle in my hand was precisely the opposite; it was a murderous artifact I had refined, supreme in yin and evil.

Ordinary people couldn't wield it at all, and would instead be backlashed by the evil qi and corrupted into demons. Let alone Old Gouzi, even other cultivators with some level of training wouldn't dare touch it lightly. Without the strength of a saint, it was simply impossible to suppress.

Back when I successfully refined this dharma instrument, I had to feed it with my vital blood for a full half-year before I completely subdued it. Ahem, this was because I practiced the Eight Divisions Vajra Skill year-round, making my physique ridiculously strong; if it were an ordinary person, they probably would've blown their engine long ago, dying or at least being half-dead.

The two of us stepped out of Old Gouzi's place and went straight toward the source of the noise.

There was hardly anyone on the road, not even a dog in sight. The fellow villagers bolted their doors tightly, hiding away like they were dodging a plague god.

As soon as we met, before I could even say anything, Old Gouzi rushed forward in a flurry of excitement.

"Fuck your mother, Xue Pan! You still dare to show up? Looks like you really don't learn your lesson, huh?"

Yet the very next moment, Old Gouzi—who hadn't even looked cool for a full three seconds—was knocked flat to the ground by Wu Sheng, shouting loudly for help.

"Aiya! Holy shit! Holy shit, stop hitting me, holy shit! Old Ghost, save me!"

Well, how does that saying go? The more high-spirited you are when acting cool, the more miserable you look when getting your ass kicked.

Before coming out, I had already figured that the one coming definitely wasn't that Xue Pan. If Xue Pan could possess someone during the daytime, why would he wait until midnight?

I wasn't in a hurry to step in and save Old Gouzi. Mainly because getting beaten up was actually a form of tempering; a person couldn't just practice acting cool without practicing taking a beating.

If you don't believe me, look at those sanda or mixed martial arts fighters. Which one of them doesn't practice taking hits before they practice hitting others?

As the saying goes, striking takes thirty percent, while defense and endurance take seventy percent. Otherwise, when you encounter some expert, you hit them a hundred punches and they're totally fine, but they give you one kick and you can't even take it—then what the spicy hell is there left to fight?

It wasn't that I was being cold-hearted. With certain things, even if someone is a good buddy, you still have to let him temper himself, or else what would happen on some day when I wasn't around and Old Gouzi went up against someone? Wouldn't he have it even worse?

"What kind of coward are you? Get up and fight him, Old Gouzi!"

"Holy shit! Holy shit, I can't do it! Old Ghost, hurry up and save me! I'm about to get kicked senseless!"

Wu Sheng's condition was unclear; perhaps seeing that I didn't look like someone easy to mess with, he didn't show any intention of fighting me, and instead just kept stomping fiercely on Old Gouzi, cursing as he kicked;

"Screw your mother! I'll let you bully my little brother! I'll let you feed Xue Pan shit! I'll screw your mother! I'll screw your mother!"

Ah, holy shit, seeing Old Gouzi reduced to this pitiful state by the kicking, I almost couldn't hold myself back from rushing in. I mean, holy shit, before we came out I had given Old Gouzi a peach-wood sword, yet this bastard was acting like a total fool and wouldn't even use it, just clutching it tightly in his death grip.

This anxiousness of mine flared up. "Damn it, Old Gouzi! Didn't I give you something? Go fight him!"

Old Gouzi, who had been rolling around endlessly on the ground, heard my reminder and finally remembered he still had the peach-wood sword in his hand.

With a bang, he scrambled right back up, his imposing aura instantly shifting.

"Screw your mother!" Pulling out the peach-wood sword in his hand, he lunged straight toward Wu Sheng and thrust.

Slap! The moment this sword thrust into Wu Sheng, a sound resembling static electricity rang out.

Wu Sheng winced in pain, his mouth pulling back. Hiss~! He sucked in a cold breath.

Seeing this scene, my heart settled quite a bit; otherwise, I really would have been afraid that this fellow Old Gouzi would lose all will to resist and just keep taking beatings.

Seeing that his single strike was effective, Old Gouzi glared at Wu Sheng with bulging eyes, looking as though he wished he could slice Wu Sheng into pieces alive.

Originally, I thought it was because Old Gouzi had just been beaten up, but then I followed the gaze of Old Gouzi's eyes, which kept glancing toward the side.

Damn it! Sure enough, I don't know when, but two pretty decent-looking lasses had shown up not far away, watching the commotion.